SeaTac
by A. Windsor
Summary: "Callie hates airports."


**Title: **Sea-Tac

**Author: **A. Windsor

**Pairing:** Callie/Arizona  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer**: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Summary: **"Callie hates airports."

**Author's Note: **I was in the airport today, and I was having 7x07 flashbacks, so I can only imagine how Callie would deal with it. Just a little therapy for her and for me. Sea-Tac is allegedly the nickname for the Seattle-Tacoma Airport. Also, first C/A fic, so, Happy Thanksgiving to all of us!

Callie hates airports.

She knows it's pretty irrational and vaguely PTSD of her, but one of the worst moments of her life happened in the Seattle airport and her subconscious has not yet recovered. She gets edgy at the dull, incessant murmur of all those people, the polished floors form a pit in her stomach, and each tinny announcement sets her on the precipice of hyperventilation.

All she can think about is babbling on and on about Africa and then standing, frozen in horror, while the love of her life cut their future off at the knees. She'd been so utterly wrecked that night and...

"Mami?"

A sweet little voice interrupts her panic attack, and she looks up from her wringing hands into concerned blue eyes.

"¿Qué pasa, Mami?" the blonde toddler questions, hugging onto her leg.

"Sorry it took us so long. We were distracted by a potty break. Someone has the tiniest bladder in the world. But we remembered your bagel!"

Callie follows the new voice up to its source and feels her breath come a little easier.

Arizona is offering a small paper bag with her super magic smile in place, her other hand precariously balancing the four-year-old on her back. Callie looks down to the toddler at her feet, beaming up at her with that same magic smile, just thirty-five years younger.

"Hey, are you okay?" Arizona asks, smile fading into concern.

Their son, Asa, stops people-watching from his high vantage point at her words, zeroing in on Callie, setting his chin onto Arizona's shoulder and echoing his sister:

"¿Qué pasa, Mami?"

Callie shakes her head and takes a deep breath, managing a smile as she accepts the bagel.

"Sorry," she says, scooping two-year-old Lena into her lap. "I just don't like airports very much."

Arizona's face looks heartbreakingly guilty as she lets Asa slide off onto the stiff leather bench seat.

"I love airports," Asa grins, dropping cross-legged beside her. His smile is different from the one Arizona and Lena share, but no less warm. He shakes tousled black hair out of his dark eyes as he explains: "Momma showed us the big window where all the planes are!"

"Planes go up!" Lena adds, sticking her arms out like a little plane herself.

"Can I have my books?" Asa asks.

"What do you say?" Arizona prompts, leaning down to the boy's backpack.

"Can I have my books, pleeeease, Momma?"

"Much better."

"Wanna see," Lena demands as Asa gets his variety of picture books, ranging from planes and trains to lions and lizards. "Peeeeeease."

"And carrots? Asa, can you share with your hermanita?" Callie asks in a tone that is more suggestion than request.

"Sí, Mami."

He scootches over in the chair, and Lena scrambles over the armrest to sit in close with him.

Callie smiles at the sweet little picture they make.

She can feel Arizona's still-concerned gaze on her as she settles into the chair beside her.

Arizona opens her mouth, but can't think of anything to say. What can she say that hasn't already been said, screamed, settled? She decides on:

"I had them put extra cream cheese on it."

Callie laughs softly and threads their fingers together, resting her head on Arizona's shoulder.

"Thanks; you're the best."

"Only sometimes," she says as she drops a kiss to Callie's head.

"No, Lena, I'm not done," Asa complains.

"Asa, be sweet to your sister," Arizona admonishes.

"She keeps changing the page!"

"Patience, m'ija," Callie adds, smoothing back one of Lena's unruly curls. "Let your brother finish each page, okay?"

The toddler and snuggles in close to Asa again.

"Maybe they'll sleep all the way to Miami," Callie says hopefully.

"I tried to let them run as much as possible, so we can pray. I brought lots of movies, just in case."

"Oh, those are for them? I thought they were for you."

"Ha. Ha. Yes, I love Disney movies. Plenty of grown ups do, thankyouverymuch."

"Just like lots of grown ups call themselves grown ups," Callie says dryly, squeezing her hand.

Arizona kisses the spot underneath her ear and whispers: "I love you. Feeling better?"

Callie nods, and she is. She's not in the airport on an aborted trip to Malawi any more. Arizona is back at her side, and they're bound together forever by the two perfect little lives beside them, with talk of a third to come. They're en route to Miami for a beautiful beach Christmas, then north for a more traditional New Years with the Robbins family.

"How are _you_ doing?" Callie questions her flight-phobic wife.

"I'll be fine as long as I have you three," Arizona assures. "And _The Lion King._"

"Amen to that."


End file.
